Shattered
by Tilliboom
Summary: Dianna Witter - an ordinary teenage girl who is sometimes weird and sometimes just plain stupid. Paul Lahote - a not-so-ordinary shape shifter who is angry most of the time and just loves to fight with people. A match made in heaven...? Paul/OFC.


**Hello :)**

**So, this story is going to be a Paul/OFC (Dianna Witter) story, focusing on them. I'm still not entirely sure how this story will progress, but I liked writing this chapter, so... I'll just go with it and see what comes out of this story.**

**Also, since my first language is not English, there might be some mistakes here and there. Not too many, but I hope the mistakes won't bother you too much.**

**And finally, the disclaimer - I obviously do not own Twilight.**

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**Chapter 1 - 'New baby' presents and dancing ants.**

Alarm clocks.

Fucking little bastards.

Alarm clocks were easily one of my greatest enemies, along with wax and skinny jeans that leave no room to breathe.

Why do people even need to wake up in the morning? Why is it so necessary for people to wake up?

Stupid people and stupid alarm clocks and stupid 6 o'clock in the morning.

With a big sigh I rolled out of bed, hair stuck to my face, and walked as if I was blind to my closet. I grabbed the first two things that I saw that were decent together, a simple black shirt and a regular pair of jeans, then grabbed my bra and stumbled into the bathroom.

After finishing with everything I had to do there, which was quite a lot, I was a teenage girl after all, I walked to the mirror in my room. I looked at my beautiful blue shining eyes and wavy, incredibly silky blonde hair in pride and satisfaction – fine, I'm lying. I have simple brown-green eyes that look like a swamp, and although my hair is blonde and nice, it is far from being perfectly wavy and incredibly silky. It was curly and simple, just like the rest of me. Ordinary.

I put a big red bow in my hair, because it's cute and I still had the fashion sense of a five year old when it came to hair, added my usual eyeliner and mascara to my eyes, making them look even bigger than they already were (and I'm not going to lie to you, my eyes are huge), and got downstairs to the kitchen.

Mom was there, drinking some coffee. She looked at me when I got into the room, then as if she remembered something important got on her feet.

"I almost forgot!" She said and walked out of the room.

I awkwardly looked after her, not knowing what she wanted from me, if she even wanted something from me or she just stated it to herself or something.

Apparently she was talking to me when she said she forgot something, because she got back into the room two minutes later, holding a small package wrapped as a present. She handed it to me with a smile.

I looked at her, confused. "…thank you?" I asked, not knowing what made her buy me something. Not that I was complaining.

My mom just laughed and shook her head. "It's not for you silly. It's for your teacher!"

This made me feel even more confused. "What? What about my teacher?"

"She just gave birth to a baby girl, and I bought her a present! Can you deliver her this present from me?"

Oh, fuck. "Mom, it was four months ago," I reminded her. I really didn't want to be the girl who brings her teacher a present for giving birth, especially since I didn't even speak to this teacher outside of class and didn't remotely like her.

Giving her a present from my mom would mean being called… well, the girl who gives presents to teachers. Which is not good.

Not that my mom cares, of course.

"Well, I didn't have time to buy her anything before, so I bought it yesterday. I was walking by the cutest shop and saw this in, and –"

"Mom, you're not even friends!" Why did my mom feel the need to buy my teacher a present when she wasn't even a good friend of hers, I would never understand.

My mom just frowned at me. "So?"

Grown up didn't make any sense. "I'm not giving her the present mom."

"Why not?"

"Because, it's embarrassing! You give it to her if you so want her to get it, I'm not going to deliver her something that you need to give her."

"Well, she already expects you to give her the present."

"What? Why would she expect that?"

"Because I sent her an email and told her you're going to give her a present from me."

I instantly froze. "MOM!"

"I'm sorry honey, but now you have no choice."

"I don't even like that teacher! She's my teacher! I'm not giving her any present."

Mom, obviously, didn't like that, and so for the next ten minutes we argued about who's going to give my teacher that stupid present.

Mom won.

Just great. Freaking awesome.

I put the present in my backpack, and I swear, even though there was only a tiny shirt inside this small package, it still felt heavy.

Maybe my mom added a big rock into the package, just to annoy me even more.

High school was pretty close to my house, so I could actually walk and not drive and still get there before first period.

Walking down the halls in my small high school, I couldn't help but feel out of place next to all of the dark-skinned, dark-haired and dark-eyed teenagers that were all around the school. I was the opposite of most of this kids' physical appearance, which made me seemed weird to most of the people in La Push. I didn't like to be different from others, but being like everyone else wasn't one of my wishes either.

I got to my locker quickly and took my algebra book out (…yay math), then walked to my classroom, feeling kinda nervous when I thought about giving that present to my teacher. Yep, my math teacher, no less. Awful subject, awful teacher.

What would I say to her when I give her the present? Should I just give it to her and run off to my seat?

Oh god, what if she'd want to _hug_ me?

That would be terrible.

Mom just ruined me the whole day with that task. Was it so hard for her to give her the present herself?

Seriously.

I hesitated when I got to the classroom, but the teacher (whose name, by the way, was Mrs. Gallagher), wasn't there yet. Maybe she's sick. God, I hope she's sick.

I walked into the classroom and sat down in my usual seat at the front row. Since Math was my most hated subject here, I had to work hard to get nice grades. You know, to get into a good university and shit.

A few seconds later, Leila, my best friend, walked into the classroom and sat down next to me.

"What's up, Dianna?" She asked, taking out her math book.

I looked up. "Ceiling, lamps, spitballs…"

She rolled her eyes. "Funny."

I smiled at her, taking in her appearance. She was even weirder than me, because she was way, WAY colorful than me. Well, not colorful, since she only wore one color.

Pink.

Everything about her, from her pink shoes to her hot pink nail polish to the pink strips in her hair to her pink shirt to her slightly-lighter-but-still-just-as-pink pants, was, yeah you guessed it right, pink.

She looked like a cotton candy.

"So," Leila started, looking at me with a tired expression, "I caught Devon trying out my new high heeled shoes yesterday evening. He said he wanted to 'know what it feels like to be tall.'"

I shook my head at her. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but… I think your brother might be gay."

Leila snorted in response. "You think?"

Leila's brother, Devon, was three years younger than us, only thirteen years old, and he already tried out Leila's make up, jewelries and now high heels on. He didn't come out to us yet, but we were suspecting he might soon.

Just as I was opening my mouth to say something, my dear dear teacher, Mrs. Gallagher, walked into the room and reminded me of my awful task.

With a bad feeling, I rose up from my seat and opened my bag slowly.

"What are you doing?" Leila asked, raising an eyebrow when she saw the blank expression on my face.

"I have a package to deliver," I informed her, took a deep breath and walked with the present to Mrs. Gallagher, who was looking at me expectantly.

I handed her the present, happy that the other kids in the class were still busy talking to their friends and didn't seem to look at my direction. "Congratulation on your new baby girl," I said, feeling awkward and stupid and totally embarrassed.

I seriously thought about just running to my seat and don't look back.

"Aw, how sweet!" Mrs. Gallagher said (way too loudly in my opinion), took the present and put it on the table. "So thoughtful of you!"

Then, to my horror, she wrapped her beefy arms around me and hugged me tightly for a few long moments.

I heard snickers and laughs from behind me.

Fuck them all.

Mrs. Gallagher finally let go of me. "You are the only student in this class who brought me anything. That shows a level of maturity and respect that your fellow students apparently don't have."

Why had these words made me feel even more uncomfortable?

I faked a smile and turned around to sit in my place, feeling the eyes of the other students around me.

"Way to suck up to the teacher, Witter," A guy behind me said.

Leila gave me a weird look. "What just happened there?"

I gritted my teeth. "Gave her a 'new baby' present."

"Your mom made you do it?"

"Yep."

"Moms," Leila said, as if this was some bad word.

After two hours of exhausting Math (Mrs. Gallagher kept looking in my direction, it was getting pretty creepy), I had two hours of English, which I actually liked. Sadly, Leila wasn't in this class with me. Happily, the guy I liked for the past two years was there, so I was always looking forward to English class.

He wasn't there when I walked into the classroom, but Kim, a sweet, quiet girl who was a good friend of mine, was already there, sitting in our regular sit next to the wall. She hated sitting in the middle of the room, said it made her feel exposed.

I sat down next to her quickly. "My math teacher looked at me longingly all morning. I think she developed an unhealthy crush on me for giving her a present from my mom. So far, my day sucks."

Kim just blinked at me. "I almost swallowed a bug."

I bit my lower lip. "Okay, you win."

The bell rang, and just like that, my crush for the past two years walked into the room, his best friend right next to him.

Jared Cameron.

Oh, what a great name. Jared. I liked names that started with the letter 'J'.

Except for Jafar of course. That's a stupid name.

Jared was cute. Strong, hot, with a nice smile and an easy-going aura surrounding him. He walked to the first row of tables, where his girlfriend Abby sat, kissed her (stupid bitch, she totally stuck her tongue into his mouth), pulled away, winked at her, frowned at his best friend Paul who playfully punched his arm, then sat down next to him in the last row, at the back of the class.

Kim next to me looked down when he passed us, then looked at him from the corner of her eye when he was behind us. I just had a crush on the guy and thought he was cute – Kim wanted to marry him and carry his kids. My crush was nothing compared to her gigantic, unhealthy crush on him.

She never said even one word to him. Not that he actually said a word to her before.

I smiled at her. "He's smoking hot, isn't he?" I gestured at Jared, who was laughing with his friends.

Kim blushed and nodded her head. "Yep," Was all she said before turning her head again to look at the front of the class.

I looked at the Jared for a few long moments, God he looked hot in that shirt, then rolled my eyes at Paul who was throwing balls made of paper at people, then looked at my English teacher as she walked into the classroom.

Except for some whispers about me and Mrs. Gallagher, nothing important happened for the rest of the school day, and I walked home feeling quite content.

That is, until I realized that my mom wasn't home yet and my keys were in my room.

Which was quite unfortunate and pretty annoying, really, since the only thing that was between me and my key was a thin wall.

After a quick phone call to my mom ("Well? Did she like the present?"), I learned that she'll be home in 30 minutes, and since none of my friends lived close to my house and none of my neighbors had a key to my house, I knew I had to sit there until my mom arrives.

In 30 minutes.

Man, that was a long time.

Too long.

Shit, I was already bored.

As I was sitting there, hungry and tired and bored, I decided to listen to some songs on my phone and put the phone on the ground next to me, where a few ants walked aimlessly.

A few minutes later, I grabbed the phone and looked at the ants around me with narrowed eyes. I got my phone next to an ant and waited to see how she'd react to the music.

Maybe ants liked Coldplay?

I saw the ant stop for 2 seconds, then continued walking.

I put on a different song, oh The Fray this time, and again put the phone next to a different ant.

"Come on… does it make you want to dance?" I asked, testing the ant. Again, like its friend, the ant stopped for a few seconds, then continued walking.

I put on the song "Baby" by Justin Bieber and put the phone close to another ant.

"What about yo-" The ant immediately ran off, escaping me and my phone and Justin Bieber's voice.

"Yeah, I don't blame you," I said to the ant and put on a different song.

After a few more tries I realized two things. I was bored, and kinda psychotic.

And then I remembered that ants can't even hear, so the whole 'let's see if ants like to dance when they listen to songs' experiment completely failed.

What a waste of my precious time.

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**So, that was the first chapter. Nothing actually happened, I know, I just didn't want to dive right into the story. I wanted to show Dianna's personality first before actually showing Paul.**

**Thoughts? Liked it? Hated it? Loved it? Thought it was stupid or silly or just awkward? Write in a review!**


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